


Pumpkins and Trouble

by Anica



Series: Hanni-verse [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Rising (2007)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Post Mpreg, Violence (Brief), Will Knows, bad memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:22:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anica/pseuds/Anica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will, Hannibal (with some grumbling), and their son visit a farm to pick some pumpkins and have some fluffy family time. It doesn't go as peaceful as expected. Hannibal shares some of his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkins and Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Still no beta. Still sorry! 
> 
> NS100 asked for a holiday fic. Hope this works. 
> 
> Some references to Hannibal Rising (book and movie)

Will Graham had always enjoyed his lover’s sense of fashion. His suits were not something Will ever be caught dead in, but on Hannibal’s frame it made him look aristocratic. The way he pulled his colors together, the way the clothing hugged him, even the way it hid his muscled frame, had to be art. Really, sometimes the doctor was just beautiful to look at.

Now, it just made Will frown and rub the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. 

“You’re not wearing that,” Will said turning away to help Hanni put on his orange sweater made to look like a jack-o-lantern. 

“Why not?” Hannibal asked though he was more concerned about what his son was wearing.

“Really? Do I really have to explain this to you?” Will cocked his head to the side. “Fine. You can not wear a three piece suit to go pumpkin picking at a farm. You’ll get dirty.” 

“I am not planning to do anything that will get me dirty.” Hannibal had been hoping for a good 4G connection to catch up on some reading. 

“Oh, you’re going to get dirty,” Will chuckled as if he was in on some kind of joke that Hannibal wasn’t. “When was the last time you were on a farm? FBI field trips excluded.” 

Hannibal gave him a hard look but did not reply. 

“Hanni, what are we going to see at the farm?” Will asked, and even though the question was for his son, the sarcastic tone was for Hannibal.

“Bunnies!” The boy’s eyes lit up as he remembered. “And a cow and a pig!” 

“And a goat?” 

“Baaa,” Hanni said helpfully.

“Did you hear that?” Will asked as he lifted the boy off the floor and made a big deal of look around. “I think there’s a goat in here.” 

“That was me daddy!” Hanni laughed.

“Was it?” Will gave a sigh of relief and held the boy in his right arm while going through the drawers for socks. “Now tell papa to stop being silly and go change his clothes.”

“Papa, don’t be silly!” 

“I have half a mind to give you both a time out for being rude,” Hannibal muttered loudly but left to get changed. 

He found some suitable pants. Straight in the leg, a heavy cotton blend but at least it wasn’t denim. He matched it with a charcoal pullover sweater that had a quarter zipper, that let his tie peak out. 

He held a small penknife in his hand. The sharp edge was safely tucked in. When it was out, it cut as smoothly as his scalpel. The weight was just right in his hand. He had been carrying some sort of knife or scalpel, tucked away on his person, most of the time since he was a teenager. Sometimes it was to much of a risk to carry it, and he would miss it’s security when it was gone. 

He tucked it in at the small of his back. Clipping it place where it wouldn’t draw attention or hurt small, curious fingers. 

He met Will by the car, who gave him a nod of approval, and asked him to spin around. Hannibal ignored him with a glare that held no heat and asked why they were taking Will’s car instead of his own.

“Is Winston suddenly allowed in your car?” Will asked as he got Hanni buckled in.

“This place allows dogs?” Hannibal asked, not sure why he was surprised or why he let Will know he was surprised. Now Will was looking at him as if he was the four year old and not their son.

“It’s a farm, Hannibal. There will be dogs there.”

“Woof!” Hanni added helpfully. 

Hannibal enjoys Winston’s company. All of Will’s dog were exceptional, maybe not all at the same time, but exceptional still. Maybe it was because they were Will’s dogs that they were exceptional. The doctor did not enjoy dog-friendly places. Not all owners had the same level of control over their pets as his young partner did. 

Hannibal tries to remember why he agreed. Their time could be much better spent doing something educational. He watches as Will walks past him to let Winston into the car and say something to Hanni that has him giggling loudly again. 

Will takes a few steps closer and looks up at him, “Are you ok? Do you not want to go?” 

The wide blue eyes behind the thick rimmed glasses warm him in the most amazing way. He leans forward and kisses Will, his hands coming up to cup the back of the other man’s head and pull him closer. They kiss just long enough to fog up Will’s glasses but not so long that their son complains.

“I’ll fallow you anywhere,” Hannibal tells him, their faces still incredibly close to each other. 

“Good,” Will pulls back, his smile turning playful. “You didn’t really have a choice.” 

“I never did,” Hannibal muttered, not at all solemnly as he fallowed Will’s lead and got into the passenger seat.

Will looked so happy as he drove that Hannibal forgot the tablet on his lap. Research papers could wait. Since Jack had recruited Will a few months ago, it was not often that his lover’s smile wasn’t forced. There still hadn’t been any nightmares or sleepwalking. Hannibal was torn between hoping they would never come back and that they do just briefly enough to shake Jack’s grip on his Will. 

It was a bit chilly but the scenery was more than enough to take their mind off it. The fall colors, clouds that were thick and brought out the contrast in the deep blue sky, it all made for wonderful memories and beautiful pictures. 

Rows of jam, pies, fresh fruit and apple cider lined up along side pumpkins of different shapes and sizes. It was a small, cozy, outdoor market but Hannibal could not understand why they had to drive more than half an hour to come here. 

“Those are not the pumpkins we came for,” Will told him and gently pulled him along. 

Hannibal was about to protest at the childish treatment when Will laced their fingers together and let their shoulders touch. That feeling of joy quickly vanished when he saw the hayride. People crowed on and sat almost shoulder to shoulder. Hanni happily stands in his seat between them, clutching the metal sides. Hannibal forces a smile for the picture Will asks complete strangers to take but has a hard time even keeping that up as they start to move. Winston is as excited as their son and stands close to the boy to make sure he’s safe. The rough hay bale under him makes sure he can’t get comfortable. He closes his eyes for a second and instantly realizes his mistake. 

The ride is shaky, as it’s suppose to be, Hannibal assumes even though it’s the first time he’s been on a wagon pulled by a tractor. He remembers to well the wagon attached to his father’s horses. That last ride as they fled their home. He remembers holding his sister close and singing to her because her fears could be chased away with just a song and faith in her older brother. He remembers how the wagon shook under the weight of their belongings and his father walking beside them so as not put extra strain on the horse. 

“Hannibal? Are you all right?” Will asks, and he sounds worried. “You’re very pale.”

“I prefer to travel a little more smoothly,” Hannibal manages to sound snobbish since that’s preferable to letting the empathic man know the truth. He avoids eye contact. 

Will snorts and Hannibal forces himself to stop his train of thought. The curls brushing his cheek aren’t that of a long dead child. They are dark and not golden. The small voice calls him papa and not `Anniba. 

“My hands are cold, papa,” Hanni says and the older man is grateful for the distraction. He kisses the hands and hold them between his own.

At the pumpkin patch Hanni is a well behaved child, especially when compared to others. Never wondering to far from his fathers’ sight, no tantrums over which pumpkins they were going to pick, and polite to the people around them. Winston ran between them but never under their legs. There was still a slight tremor in Hannibal’s hands but it was slowly melting away. 

They choose two big pumpkins and one just big enough for Hanni to carry. Hannibal carries his son and makes Will carry the two pumpkins.

“You can not expect a man my age to carry such burdens?” 

Will narrowed his eyes and muttered something about dead weight, but the corners of his lips twitched up. 

They had to take the hayride back and it almost undid all the work Hannibal had put into relaxing. Once they were off it, they put the pumpkins on a small wagon and Hanni climbed in as well. Will pulled it towards their car, and at their son’s request went faster, running past their parked car and making a loop. Winston ran close behind, barking happily. The make several more loops as Hannibal leans against the car watches.

Once they had the pumpkins in the trunk Hannibal opened the passenger side door only to be stopped by Will once again.

“We’re not going home yet,” Will laughed, but not mockingly. He was excited. “We still have a petting zoo to go through. Come on!” 

He obediently fallowed, stopping when they did to get some funnel cake on the way. He watched his son and lover pull apart the fried, sugary strands as they set on the grass. They ignore him as he tells them how horrible the snack is for them. 

“Just try some,” Will begged but was met with a stony glare.

The younger man took it as a challenge, breaking off a piece at the edge and handing it to their son with a conspirator whisper. 

“Here, papa, eat!” Hanni stretched out the piece.

Sucking his lips in, Hannibal shook his head. 

Will leaned over and whispered again. Hanni smiled and said please. Hannibal accepted the piece and even said thank you. It was much to sweet and the oil had seeped in more than it should have. Hannibal smiled and mouthed ‘I hate you’ over Hanni’s head which had Will rolling on the grass. 

They shared sugar powder kisses, that Hannibal didn’t find to sweet at all, while Hanni fed the goats. The cow’s large tongue soaked the boy’s hand and he turned to Will with a look that closely resembled his papa.

“I don’t want to feed the cow no more,” Hanni said, wiping his hand on Will’s shirt. “Yuck.” 

The pigs were napping no matter how loudly Hanni called out to them.

“All right, just the maze left and we can go home and eat dinner.”

“I’m not hungry, daddy,” Hanni informed him. 

“Daddy wasn’t asking you.”

At the entrance of the corn maze they were told that dogs weren’t allowed.

“I’d be more than happy to watch him for you,” The girl at the entrance offered “I got a spoiled, over grown German Shepherd so he should be no problem.”

“He won’t be,” Will promised. With a quick command Winston set at the entrance of the maze, though obviously not pleased at being left behind.

“This isn’t the type of maze where you have workers hiding and waiting to jump out, right?” He asked her in a low voice. 

“Of course not,” She shook her head and blushed. “I hate those. I know they’re there and just freeze up. This is a kid friendly one.” 

“I’m scared,” Hanni whispered after the first few turns. 

“I’ll hold your hand,” Will offered. 

“No, I want papa to hold my hand,” Hanni said. He pushed Will ahead of them. 

“Nothing to be afraid, sweet boy,” Hannibal told his son. “You want to know a trick? If we fallow the right wall, we’ll get out.”

“Don’t ruin it,” Will laughed from his position a step a head of them. 

It had been quite in the maze. They had not seen anyone else. They were talking softly, Will turning his head every few steps to speak Hannibal. 

When Hannibal saw something move, there was no time to warn Will. A figure, dressed in black, a demon mask covering his face moved threateningly towards them. 

Hannibal doesn’t even remember moving, one moment he’s behind Will, the next he has his hand on the dark figure’s trachea, pushed up hard against a wall of hay bales and his knife is in his hand. 

“Hannibal,” Will’s voice cut’s through the haze and, and he feel’s pressure on his wrist and waist where the younger man is pulling him away. “It’s probably just a kid,” he screams.

Suddenly there’s more commotion. A young man runs out, waving a small camera around. Hannibal loosens his grip when his son’s screams reach him. He tears the mask off of the would be attacker. It’s no boy. The man is in his early twenties, his face red, eyes wet and he falls to his knees while trying to catch his breath. 

“What the hell is going on?” Will’s voice is colder and louder than Hannibal had ever heard it before. 

He leaves the two man to Will to deal with as he tries to calm their son.

“It’s just a mask, Han.” Hannibal holds it out for the boy, but Hanni buries his head against his shoulder and refuses to look up. He repeats it over and over.

“We were just trying to make a video. You know like the YouTube ones,” The man with the camera runs over to his friend. “Oh man, is he going to be all right?” 

“All right?” Will pulls out his badge. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot him. What the hell were you thinking?”

The young male pales and holds up his hands, “We were just messing around.”

“You want to explain that to my hysterical son?” Will growled at him, snatching the camera out his hand. 

The young man’s protest died as he made eye contact with Hannibal who was standing next to Will now. Hanni’s face was buried in the older man’s neck, still crying loudly. Will hands the camera over to Hannibal who quickly went through the history and deleted the video. 

The first man was starting to regain his color and he was sitting up and wheezing, his chin is wet as he tries to swallow but fails. “Shit, what did you to me?”

“Are you still not understanding this?” Will’s voice dropped to an icy calm. He pulls back his coat just enough to show that he is carrying his piece but not enough to for his kid to see.

“We do!” The camera man stood, paled again, hands still up while the other man curses. “Look, we didn’t see the kid. We just saw you two … we just thought…” 

Hannibal wiped down the camera and tossed it back. 

“I can imagine I know what you thought,” Hannibal said. “You are to old to pretend that you did not know any better.” 

“Are you … are we under arrest?” 

“I haunt serial killers,” Will said. “All you two managed to do is traumatize a four year old.”

The young men didn’t know if they should look ashamed or insulted. 

“Up,” Will told the young man still on the ground. “I want you two off the property.”

“I can’t,” The one the floor coughed pathetically. 

“Man up,” Will told him. “Get up or I’ll drag you up.”

They made the two men walk ahead of them. Will and Hannibal were coiled energy just waiting for an excuse to let go. The young men must have sensed it. They stayed quite and didn’t run as they retrieved Winston and made their way to an officer that stood guard. Will spoke to him briefly, flashed his badge and ordered that the two men not be allowed to return. The men wisely didn’t offer any apologies. 

By the time they returned to the car, Hanni had cried himself to sleep, and Hannibal buckled him into his car seat. 

As soon as Hannibal closed the door, he was spun around and slammed hard against the car.

“What the hell were you thinking? What are you even doing with this?” Will yelled at him, and Hannibal only had a split second to catch his knife before it hit him in the face.

“I always carry it,” Hannibal replied, his voice low and calm which seemed to infuriate Will even more. 

“We were going pumpkin picking not haunting!” 

“Will, now is the time to talk about this.” 

Will balled his hands into fist and walked off. He only walked away a few steps, took a couple of deep breaths and returned. 

The drive was silent, dinner was a little more lively, Hanni woke up feeling better though refused to stay in a room by himself. He spent dinner talking about what he wanted to do with his pumpkin. 

Once the pumpkins were cleaned and gutted, Hanni watched as his papa set down to carve. While his papa worked on his pumpkin, he showed off the stencils daddy got for their pumpkins. 

“How about this one?” Hannibal suggested, the smiley face looked simple enough. 

“It’s not scary enough,” Hanni pouted. 

“How about the castle?” Hannibal suggested on the next page, it was harder but he would help out if asked.

“Castles aren’t scary.” 

“Oh, but they can be. Especially at night. Your papa used to live in a castle,” Hannibal told him and noticed Will’s head snap up from his own stencil sheets. It wasn’t often that Hannibal mentioned his childhood. 

“Are you a prince?” Hanni asked, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.

“Nothing that fancy but papa is - as much as it matters now - a Count.” Hannibal shrugged, and kept carving. “It’s nothing more than a title now, which I guess all it ever really is, but its still ours.” 

That part seemed to be lost on the young boy that just wanted to know why he wasn’t living in a castle. “Why did you leave?” 

“There…” Hannibal stopped, his hand frozen as he considered his next words. “There were some bad men. Your grandfather, my father, packed up a wagon and we went to hide till the bad men left.”

“Like the tractor?” Hanni asked, eyes bright. 

“Close, we had a horse.” 

Hannibal could feel Will’s eyes on him but worked on his pumpkin quietly. 

“Are you scared of the bad man?” Hanni asked, his voice low.

“I was,” Hannibal replied just as low. “They’re all gone now.”

“I’m scared of the mean boys in the maze,” Hanni confided in him.

“You don’t need to be,” Hannibal turned to make sure he had eye contact. “Your daddy and I will never let anyone hurt you. Never. Understand?” 

Hanni’s smile spread and looked genuine. 

“It’s getting closer to bed time, lets get started,” Will called gently. Hannibal could see that his face had softened which helped him relax further. 

Hanni climbed on to Will’s lap and half an hour later, covered on pumpkin bits, they had a truly terrifying wolf/dog looking face. While Hanni ran to wash his hands, Will made his way to see what Hannibal had done. 

“It’s suppose to be scary.” Will chuckled. 

He was not at all surprised to see how beautiful Hannibal’s picture was. He had made use of the thickness to draw a scene from earlier that day. Though it could have been anyone, it was clearly a man, pulling a little child in a wagon and dog chasing after them. 

“Ah, so it is,” Hannibal agreed and took up his scalpel again and used it to slightly reshape the man’s head so he could have horns. 

“Very scary,” Will shook his head. 

They carried their pumpkins outside and placed flickering lights inside. When it was time to get ready for bed, Hanni didn’t even argue. It had been a long day for the little boy. Once he ran upstairs to get ready for his bath, Will pushed Hannibal against the wall.

“I don’t want you carrying that knife.”

“It’s perfectly legal,” Hannibal argued.

“I don’t doubt that you know more about the law then most … or all of the officers in Maryland but it’s not about that.” Will shook his head. “It will raise questions. We don’t need that kind of attention.”

“Will…” Hannibal started but Will took a firm hold of his upper arm and moved in closer.

“This isn’t a debate. We both know you don’t need that silly thing to take some one out. I don’t want it around our son.”

“You have a gun,” Hannibal pointed out. “And I’ve always been careful.”

Will took a deep breath and rested his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder.

“That ride unnerved you. I understand that now,” He said softly but firmly. “Find something else. I don’t like knives.” 

Hannibal remembers suddenly why his lover hated knives. The man that stabbed Will all those years ago is dead and had been dead before they ever met but Hannibal is angry that he wasn’t the one to do it every time he sees the scare. He isn’t one to just to say something without meaning it so he takes a few moments to consider the request. Find something else. His lips twitch. It was not a request. It had been an order.

For a moment he almost misses the shy man he met half a decade ago that couldn’t meet his gaze. But it’s only for a moment. He likes the man in front of him. He loves him.

“Yes, sir.” Hannibal says and watches as Will lifts his head, both eyebrows up. 

“No more knives?” 

“No, sir.”

Will laughs and pushes the length of his body against the older man, kissing him till a small voice upstairs yells that he’s ready for his bath. 

Will sighs and rests his forehead against the doctors chin. 

“I’ve been telling you what to do and where to go all day, I’m sorry.” Will says softly. 

“Sometimes even I need to be told what to do,” Hannibal offers, and licks his lips slowly. “Now lets go get him to bed,” he turns Will towards the stairs, his hand firmly on the small of the man’s back as he moves him forward. “After, I will be telling you what to do.” 

“Can I call you Count Lecter while I do it?” He turns his head just enough so the other man can see his cheeky grin.

“I must insist that you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love hearing from you. I have another chapter in the works. Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see.


End file.
